


Long Rest

by fireweed15



Category: BomBARDed (Podcast)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Epidemics, Episode Related, F/F, Implied Relationships, Pandemics, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 19:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19752295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireweed15/pseuds/fireweed15
Summary: The nights are hardest, and the idea of losing her dad starts to weigh heavily on Yashee. Thankfully, she's not the only one up at this hour.





	Long Rest

After a long journey, a quiet rest was a welcome reprieve—a chance to regain energy, to reflect, to relax.

This, however, was entirely too quiet.

Yashee had grown used to the sounds of students in the halls and the surrounding dorms, the sounds of instruments and snatches of songs and conversation. Now, with this purple spore… virus… _whatever_ knocking everyone out…

Yashee sat cross-legged on the floor next to her dad’s cot. The stone floors were unforgiving, especially after being curled into so small a position for so long, but simply leaving him felt wrong. A few beds over, Randy and Raz'ul had crashed on an unoccupied cot, necessity forcing the sleeping bards to nestle together like spoons in order to share it.

_Like spoons…_ Yashee sighed heavily, the significance of the phrase weighing heavily on her mind.

“Burning the midnight oil much?”

The words, even murmured, were _loud_ in the silence of the infirmary’s spillover, and Yashee’s head turned so quickly her neck cracked. “ _Oww…_ ” When she lifted her hand to rub the back of her neck, it wasn’t just from pain; it was from sheepishness. “Hey Tabitha…”

Tabitha offered a slight smile before sitting on the edge of the cot behind Yashee. Her weight was so slight it didn’t seem to bother the person occupying it. “How are you holding up?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine—just great.” It sounded a bad lie, even to Yashee, and she sighed again. “I’ve been better.”

“I thought so,” Tabitha said, nodding as she tucked her hands into the opposite sleeve of her sweater. “Want to talk about it?”

“Where do I start?” she mumbled, fingers curling against the stone floor before a thought came to her. “Ohh! Uhh… Tabitha, this is my dad.” She gestured to her sleeping ( _he’s sleeping, just sleeping, that’s all_ ) father. “Dad, if you’re listening, this is Tabitha.” She turned to Tabitha, nodding sagely. “He’s listening.”

Tabitha’s smile warmed as she nodded back. “I understand. It’s a pleasure, Mr. Bordun.” She canted her head to the side, thinking for a moment. “Circumstances being what they are, of course.”

“Yeah…” Yashee intoned, looking back at her father.

They sat in silence. Nurse Odejoy’s footfalls could be heard, distantly, but otherwise, it was as if they were in a bubble.

“It’s a shame your father had to get caught up in this,” Tabitha commented at length. “He seems like a nice person.”

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Yashee confirmed. “It’s been me and him for like… _ever_ , I guess.”

Tabitha’s brow furrowed slightly. “What about your mom?”

“Orc stuff, y'know?” Yashee explained, nodding solemnly.

“Ahh.” Silence sat between them for a beat before Tabitha subtly prompted, “So… you and your dad?”

“Yeah!” Yahsee latched onto the topic change. “See, I’m the little spoon and he's—” She took her father’s arm and tugged up his sleeve before turning it to show Tabitha the tattoo that ran along the length of her father’s forearm, showing a carved spoon with the words _big spoon_ in Common and Orcish— “the big spoon.”

Tabitha murmured softly in Elvish before repeating herself in Common—"That’s really sweet.“

A pleased blush colored Yashee’s face. "I dunno what I’d do without him—” A thought seemed to hit her, and all of the color drained from her. “Oh my god…”

“What’s wrong?” Tabitha’s hand lifted, her eyes darting from point to point on her fellow bard’s face. “Yashee—”

“What if I _do_ have to do without him?” Her hands curled into loose, then tight fists at the sides of her face; her volume continued to rise, and her eyes became almost frenzied. “What if the spores eat his brain? _What if my dad_ dies—”

“ _Yashee._ ” Tabitha’s voice was gentle but firm; it matched her grip as she caught Yashee by the wrist, stopping her panic in its tracks. She offered her a slight, reassuring smile. “I don’t think the spores are going to eat his brain, and I _definitely_ don’t think he’s going to die.”

Somehow, just hearing the words was immensely soothing. “You don’t?” Yashee murmured, lowering her hands.

Tabitha smiled again, finally releasing Yashee’s wrist to pat her hand. “If he’s as half as strong as you, I think he’ll be just fine, Yashee.”

Yashee stopped to consider Tabitha’s assessment. “Nobody’s as strong as me,” she noted, “‘cept maybe my m—Oh oh wait I get it now.” _Oops._ “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” she replied, finally withdrawing her hand and scooting a little closer. “Why don’t you tell me more stories about you and your dad?”

It wasn’t the _ideal_ quiet rest, but it was a welcome reprieve all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> me @ the Bardcast: _sweaterspoons pls_


End file.
